University of Virginia Library

PREFACE.

If the plea of “being solicited” is of any
avail in securing a favourable reception for
a literary production, the writer of these
sketches might make out a triple claim.
For most of them were written by a young
mother and housekeeper, in the first years
of her novitiate, amid alternate demands
from an ever dissolving “kitchen cabinet,”
and from the two, three, and four occupants
of her nursery.

During this period, the entreaty of some
friend to “write just a page or two” for
her literary soirée, or the request of some
editor with the offer of a douceur that might
eke out a domestic accommodation, backed
by the occasional offer of friends to act as
substitutes in domestic concerns while securing
the fulfilment of such requests, elicited
most of these articles; which, at the request

of a publisher, have been collected and prepared
by the author of this preface.

Being thus, to some extent, responsible
for the matter contained in this volume, the
writer of the preface takes the opportunity
to offer a few remarks on this particular
kind of literature, with which the press is
now teeming. The time was when, to the
greater part of the religious world, novel
reading was almost as much an interdicted
amusement as dancing and card-playing.
But since the writings of Miss Edgeworth
and Sir Walter Scott have produced so great
a change in the character of novels, there
has been a corresponding change in practice,
even among the most scrupulous, till
now we can find novels as a part of the clergyman's
library, and novel writers publicly
eulogized by some of the most influential
among our clergy and theological professors.

At the same time, there has been a most
enormous multiplication of sketches, tales,
novels, and romances, of all sorts and sizes,
which, by the agency of cheap magazines
and mammoth sheets, have been showered

into every hamlet in our land. They are
found not only in the library of the rich or
the literary, but on the counter, in the workshop,
in the tavern, in the canal-boat, and
the railroad car. And the greatest evil in
all this is, that there is little or no discrimination
in the selection of this food for the
imagination. The worst stands about an
equal chance with the best.

The powerful effect of this kind of literature
on the public mind has recently
been strongly indicated by the oblations
paid to an amiable and interesting foreign
novelist, whose advent has called forth demonstrations
rarely accorded to the greatest
benefactors of mankind. And what are his
claims to this homage, and what will be the
probable result? True it is, that the vivid
delineations of character and scenes in his
writings, their democratic tendency, the
kindliness of heart displayed in them, the
pleasing vein of humour that runs through
them, and their comparative freedom from
what is licentious and unprincipled, are just
claims to public favour. And there is some
real occasion for patriotic pleasure in so uncommon
a popular ovation to merit that is

so purely intellectual. But, on the other
hand, what false views of human nature
are presented in these so popular and widespread
writings; as if such pure, elevated,
refined characters could grow up under the
most baleful influences, without parental
influence, without education, and without
religion: as if it made little or no difference
with the human mind whether it were
trained right or wrong, or not trained at all.
And what a low standard of virtue is presented!
as if the truths and hopes of religion
had nothing to do with virtue or morality,
or noble and refined sentiment. And
what sad familiarity is induced with the most
depraved, the most degraded, and the most
vulgar of mankind! And with what careless
and mirthful levity are the crimes and
vices of our fellow-creatures held up to view!
And what is there in these writings to counteract
such unfortunate influences? And
what can be hoped from the unbounded
popularity thus gained, but the flooding of
our land by competitors, both at home and
abroad, who probably will sink below their
model of imitation in these respects?

It is such considerations as these that
seem to call on both the writers and readers
of works of imagination, to pause and
look about for the landmarks. And it is
by these considerations that the writer, in
aiding to add another volume to this kind
of literature, has felt called upon to present
some of her own views on this subject.

What, then, is to be done? Shall persons
professing to be regulated by religious principle,
attempt to revert to former strictness,
and banish all novel-reading as a sinful
practice, at all times to be shunned?

In reply to this, it may be remarked, that
this mode of remedying the difficulty is utterly
impracticable. For, in the first place,
there is no foundation for drawing any line
of exclusion. A novel—what is it? Is it
merely the highly-wrought tale contained
in two volumes, and called a novel? But
what are many of the highly-wrought tales
in our juvenile libraries but little novels for
children? And what are the highly-wrought
love-stories in Mrs. Sherwood's Lady of the
Manor, which figure in our Sunday schools,
and are conned over by the children of minister

and people, and often in the hours of
sanctuary service, but a collection of little
novels, with a bit of the catechism at the
beginning, and a prayer at the end of each?
There is no possibility, then, of making rules
to exclude novels, because there is no mode
of deciding what a novel is. The question,
therefore, is much more general; for we
are led to inquire, by what methods are we
to regulate and properly restrain the reading
of works of imagination? In determining
this, we cannot assume that all “fictitious
narratives” shall be excluded, for this
would shut out, not only much of the most
profitable religious reading, but even the
parables and allegories of Scripture.

In meeting the matter fairly, it is to be
conceded that there are many advantages
to be gained by reading works of this class,
if properly selected. The imagination and
taste are gifts of God, which are to be cultivated
and developed, and their proper exercise
is conducive to the health both of body
and mind. Now that the laws of our physical
nature are beginning to be better understood,
it is extensively conceded that it

is not only right, but that it is a duty, at
certain intervals, to release the intellect and
feelings from care and effort, and devote a
certain portion of time to mere recreation
and amusement. And the most elevating
and refining of all amusements is the exercise
of the imagination in contemplating the
pictures drawn by the sculptor, painter, poet,
and novelist. These amusements, if properly
regulated, have a tendency to improve
the manners by an acquaintance with the
refinements of polished society, to increase
a knowledge of the world by vivid pictures
of men and things, to cultivate the taste by
exhibitions of the beautiful, correct, and
pure, to elevate the sentiments, to expand
the generous and benevolent sympathies,
and to cherish religious principles and pious
aspirations. For never do self-denying virtue
and heaven-born piety appear more interesting
and inviting than when appropriately
portrayed in works of imagination.
But every good has its attendant dangers,
and, ordinarily, the greater the blessing, the
greater are the evils involved in its perversion.

Works of imagination might be made the
most powerful of all human agencies in
promoting virtue and religion; and yet,
through perversion, they are often the channel
for conveying the most widespread and
pernicious poisons. And the most dangerous
part of these evils is their insidious and
unmarked operation. The havoc they often
make in tastes, feelings, habits, and principles,
is ordinarily as silent and unnoticed
as the invisible miasma, whose presence is
never realized until pale cheeks and decaying
forms tell of its fatal power.

The lassitude of spirits and vis inertiæ
of intellect that often result from over-excitement
of the imagination—the distaste
for solid mental nutriment thus induced—
the waste of time and energies—the false
and mawkish taste—the wrong views of
life and its trials, awakening hopes and
wishes that can end only in disappointment
and disgust—the false estimate of character,
induced by adorning with the charms
of fancy heroes and heroines destitute of the
grand qualifications alike indispensable to
our present and our eternal well-being—the

false standard of right and wrong presented—and
still more fatal and insidious, those
dangerous pictures, that tempt the imagination
to guilty indulgences, destructive alike
to health, character, and virtue: all these
evils come unawares upon the young and
unwary, while no guardian is near to save
from the evil, or spread the alarm to the
yet unharmed.

What, then, should be attempted by those
who feel, or fear these evil tendencies, in
order to stay the contaminating influence
now pervading our intellectual and moral
atmosphere?

The writer may at least suggest what
could be done.

In the first place, parents might be as
watchful for the safety of their children in
regard to the slow poisons that corrupt the
taste, and principle, and feelings, as they are
to save from poisonous food. The practicability
of this the writer has seen exemplified
in families, where the mother keeps a
careful inspection of all books, newspapers,
and magazines that enter the house, and
where the rule of the family is, that no book

or paper shall be read without parental permission.
The father co-operates, and leaves
his office, counting-room, or study, to spend
his evenings with his family, and at such
times the carefully-selected works of fiction
are read aloud for common entertainment.
Thus the parents and children are united in
their pleasures, while parents have an opportunity
to counteract any bad influence
that might otherwise be exerted.

In the second place, teachers of schools
and officers of all institutions for educating
the young, could make it a definite object
to instruct those under their care in the
dangers to which they are exposed, and to
point out the works that should be avoided,
and those which may safely be read.

In the third place, the editors of our magazines
and newspapers might exert a most
healthful influence in presenting appropriately
to the minds of their readers the
dangers and evils involved in the promiscuous
reading of works of imagination, in
drawing attention to works that are safe and
valuable, and in giving warning whenever

a work issues from the press that is pernicious
in its tendencies.

Lastly, the ministers of religion may, in
their pulpit discourses, instruct their people
in their duties as individuals and as parents
on this subject. They can most appropriately
point out how intimately the proper
control and training of the imagination is
connected with all devotional and practical
duties—how much the power of regulating
this unruly principle depends on the course
of reading adopted—how much the tastes
and principles of the young are modified by
works of imagination—how responsible parents,
and teachers, and guardians are for the
proper protection of the young from these insidious
and multiplying dangers—and how
proper domestic regulations may avail to secure
all desirable advantages without the attending
evils.

If these fountains of influence would thus
exert even a small moiety of their power for
the public safety, the baleful missives that
are now spreading poison with every breeze
would soon be supplanted by those verdant
leaves that bloom by the waters of life, and

are shed abroad “for the healing of the nations.”

When this is attempted, those who cater
for the public taste will find it for their interest
to select only the safe and good.
And then, too, genius will no longer debase
itself in providing aliment for a vicious
public taste, but, pluming its wings
for a nobler flight, will roam through celestial
regions, combining only the bright,
the elevated, the right and pure, and thus
“allure to brighter worlds, and lead the
way.”

Such considerations have inspired the
conviction that a person who has the taste,
invention, sprightliness, humour, and command
of diction that qualifies for a successful
novelist, by employing these talents appropriately,
may become one of the greatest
of public benefactors, by skilfully providing
the healthful aliment that may be
employed in supplanting the pernicious
leaven.

Whether the writer of these sketches has
the qualifications that warrant her to aim at
any such effort, the public can more fairly

judge, than one who must be biased, not
only by the partialities of a sister, but by
the deep interest felt in the nascent efforts
of a mind trained from childhood under her
care.